I don’t know for how long. Probably until I find a new place to live and get all nice and moved in. Which will hopefully be really really soon.
This was a Facebook rant.
Then I decided to post it here, for various reasons.Â
Pro-tip: saying you’re good at avoiding drama or have a drama-free life? Basically signals to EVERYONE that you, in fact, are a drama-starter and are basically steeped in drama all the time.
It’s impossible to have a drama-free life; we’re human. Drama is what we do. There’s a difference between normal drama among humans and playing small-p politics, which is what happens in a lot of subcultures and local communities (pagan, kinkster, poly, geek, writer…the list goes on). People use drama to play politics with each other, and that’s when it turns into what people usually see as “drama”.
Fact is, you’re going to have emotional upsets and fights and disagreements with people you care about and this is drama because it’s basically the same sort of interpersonal stuff that keeps plays and TV shows and movies going. Drama happens; it’s not necessarily good or bad.
Small-p community politics? Different thing. Feeds off drama and creates a shitstorm that then gets labeled, wholesale, as drama.
And the people who say they’re drama-free? Are the WORST instigators of that small-p politics shit. The WORST.
So do us all a favour: quit fucking lying. You’re insulting our intelligence.
30 Days of Paganism: 3. Beliefs — Deities
In the faith I’m building there are three main deities — I call Them the Sacred Triad. Instead of dualism, I base my faith on the number three. Sky, land, sea. Birth, life, death. Heavens, Earth, Underworld. Fire, blood, water.
Brighid is the sky, the bright flame, inspiration and the beginning of all things. She is the creative force that drives us; She is birth, the beginning. She is the bit of the Smith that broke off and came to inhabit Ireland. She is primal fire. The sparkling blaze of the stars in the sky. The warmth of the hearth. The fire in your head, urging you to do the Work.
Morrigan is the land, the blood that pumps through our veins, the sovereignty of the earth, our bodies, our souls. She is every moment between the spark of life, of creation (Brighid) and the moment our time on this earth ends. Zie* takes life, because the land — because She — demands sacrifice. Zie is the joy of the hunt and the battle; She is the warrior’s exultation; Zie exists in margins, in the middle grounds, in the wilds.
Manannan is the sea. He is the rain and the mist and the loving, warm embrace of death. He is the one who carries you to the afterlife after your bodily time is over. He is infinite love, for He is our end. He is God the Father. He watches over us in our lifetimes as He makes sure we complete the final journey. The deep dark ocean; the underworld; the frozen blackness of space. The wind in our sails, the waves beneath our ships, the love that makes us whole.
Together the Sacred Triad form the basis of my practice and worship. There are also specific gender-related things to do with Them but I’ll go into that on Day 9.
*I’m using both pronouns for tM these days because I’m still trying to figure out the proper ones for Her/Zir.
Maenad
Of course because He is beloved to me; of course that. Of course because I am one of His worshippers. Probably I need no other reason.
Why?
But there are other reasons. Always other reasons; not that I should have to explain myself why I wish to align myself with women who rip men to small bits of gobby flesh. But people ask. But there are reasons.
In a world where nothing dies, nothing lives. In a world where there is no ripping of the flesh there is no fertilizing of the fields. You rip the god to pieces and He becomes the land that sustains you. You press Him beneath your feet and He becomes the wine that leads you to His embrace.
That divinity, that chaos, it appears in everything. In everyone. Godself within.
Sacrificed to feed the starving land.
Rip away the outside that hurts those I love. Poison seeps away, into the earth; she can take it. Leave the Godself below.
Enlightenment through madness.
Healing through bloody sacrifice.
Revolution through the hunt, through forests, over hills, bloodsoaked bare feet pounding grass and mud.
Justice served from the wild.
That’s why.
Today’s top search that brought folks to this blog:
that bitch amy pickens
…what.
QotD: Sept. 25th, 2013
HAD I the heavens’ embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly, because you tread on my dreams.
QotD: Sept. 23rd, 2013
Everyone unravels just a bit in the dark.
Arachne’s Song, Dyonisis
(things we should keep away from Morag)
This theme has different types of post formats, and “Status” is one of them. Now that I have discovered this, I expect to post here more often.
ETA: though it seems, on further exploration of this post type, that they do not allow comments or permalinks. So perhaps I will not use them as often as I thought; more likely they will be used to update people as to the status of the blog if there’s a post hiatus, or the like.
Rainy Fall Morning
It is almost 8am. I’ve been up for three and a half hours. I slept for seven and a half (five of those uninterrupted, which is a big deal for me). It is rainy and gray, which I love, during my favourite season of the year, and I am simply relishing the fact that I have a few hours of relaxation before I have to work again.
Fire in the Head
When you sit smothered in the wool of mediocrity
feeling your creativity seep away
like water through the earth
light a candle
and speak My name
“Brighid I call you
Brighid I beg you
Wake up what’s lost
Find what’s asleep
Let the fire rage deep.”
I will burn the wool away
give you precious clarity
find the truth you seek:
you have always been worthy
Let My flames guide your hands
your heart
your head
In the darkness, I will be your torch
I will guide you to your centre
Fear not unsteady footing
For you tread on My mantle
And it shall be steady for you evermore
Shed the sheltering numbness
Shake the cobwebs of despair
Fan the flames of desire
I am that which is attained
at the end of the fire
I am in the coals
and in the spark
and in the cold
You are never without Me
for I am always within you
Light a candle
speak My name
I will help you fan the flames.